Third Impressions
by EternityIsNow
Summary: In the First Era a family accepts a gift that will put the fate of the sun in jeopardy. Years of distrust and hatred rip apart the parents, and through them, their only child: Serana. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Full Summary: In the First Era a family accepts a gift that will put the fate of the sun in jeopardy. Years of distrust and hatred rip apart the parents, and through them, their only child: Serana. Removing her from everything she knows, her mother takes her and runs. Over a thousand years later a man comes and saves her from her prison. Serana thinks him her hero, but finds this 'Dragonborn' is just as power-hungry as her father. Little does she know her real Knight in Shining Armor was there from the beginning.**

_A/N: I welcome you as you join me on this journey! I am going to try to update every Sunday, but I unfortunately can't promise you in case life catches up with me. I would like to thank Bean21 for being my unofficial beta-reader on this story! You're awesome! ;)_

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_~Third Impressions~  
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I bent down, caressing the petals of the bright pink and white blossom. The mountain flowers were perfect this year, as they had been every year as far back as I could remember. I leaned in, inhaling their scent: sweet, like honey; and yet wild, the very personification of nature.

The smell alone stirred a strange desire in my soul, taking my mind far away from the castle and its island. My mind wandered to the plains of central Skyrim, outside of Whiterun, where I was sure the mountain flowers, true mountain flowers, bloomed, as my books had always mentioned. I longed to be as free as nature, flowing wherever I desired, no chains holding me back, no restrictions. I longed for the life I felt that I never deserved, yet I was made for.

"Serana, dear, you should not be out this late in the day. Your blood will boil you alive!" The worrisome voice brought me out of my longings. I looked over my shoulder at my mother, standing upon the balcony, beckoning me back inside the castle.

I let the flower fall. Its stem swayed from its sudden burden. Scaling the steps, I could not help but take one more gaze at the courtyard in the bright sun. Nature was more beautiful in the daytime, I was sure of it. "I know, Mother, but I couldn't help it. The castle is so _dark_," I answered, finally turning to her as I spoke.

She paused in the threshold of the door, turning her body to face me directly. "I know 'tis hard for you to accept, Serana, but you are a vampire. You were made to be in the dark. If you wished to be in the sunlight, you should not have accepted the gift," she answered passively, turning to continue into the castle. I followed, slightly hurt by her words. A gatekeeper closed the heavy, wooden double-doors behind us. Darkness enveloped me; the only thing warding off complete blackness being the large chandelier in the dining hall below.

"How could I not accept the gift?" I asked, breaking the momentary silence. The question had many meanings, and we both knew it.

Her face grew stern, losing its graceful beauty. "No one forced you," was all she answered.

I shook my head and stormed past her into the maze of hallways. The castle was large, which was a blessing as well as a curse. At times like these, however, it was a blessing. I could retreat to the farthest room of the castle, retreat to my own thoughts; retreat to solitude.

As I stumbled past a doorway, my own reflection caught my sight. Finding that fact strange, considering only enchanted mirrors could pierce the veil of darkness surrounding us, I paused. I retraced my steps to find a small pool of water on the floor in an empty room. I tilted my head in interest, and couldn't help but smile as my reflection did the same.

"Kynareth, you truly knew what you were doing. Nature can pierce any darkness, can it not?" I asked, shaking my head in amazement.

I stood above the water for some time. I had not seen my reflection for _years_ at the least. Not much had changed in my past hundred years as a vampire, much to my indifference. I still appeared as a young adult, despite my elder soul. My hair had not dimmed from its vibrant ebony black, and my eyes were still as red as blood. A strange, small part of me wished to see them green once more, just for a moment, just to know they were still inside me—someplace.

Shaking the fruitless thoughts from my mind, I tore myself away from the pool. I knew my destination now: where I could be whoever I wished.

Choosing my turns, I ventured into an abandoned level of the structure. I knew my current location to be a reading room of sorts, or at least used to be. Benches and chairs were scattered around the room, accompanied by tables with various books and papers. Lights stained the walls, leaving rays scattered, looking like a piece of abstract art.

I let out a sigh of relief, brightening as I found the one place where I felt happy in this castle. These books could take me anywhere I chose, I could be whoever I wanted. With a huff I plopped onto my own, rather dusty chair and opened the book from the nearest table.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: And…I'm back! Early! An awesome reviewer pointed out that Serana was probably put in Dimhollow sometime in the First Era. I wasn't completely sure when exactly it happened, so I guessed the Second Era. So I thought I'd change it—but didn't want to do that without posting a new chapter. So you guys get two this week!_

I was no longer Serana. I was Voernet, sailing the seas to the far-off island of Artaeum to meet with the Psijic Order's Ritemaster. I could imagine the dangers of the seas, the smell of salt in the air, the stormy waters, and above all: the freedom I still longed for.

I suppose I was so entranced by the tale that I never heard the footsteps, but I certainly heard the heartbeat. With a gasp, I put down the book and stood up; putting on my 'Lady Serana' air my father had scolded me into keeping around mortals.

"Who are you?" I demanded, eyeing the man before me.

He had coal black hair, just like me, that came down to near his ear. His dark blue eyes shown with the ferocity of a warrior, yet they had a sense of gentleness that I knew could overwhelm the ferocity if he desired. He looked strong, but not built for combat, his somewhat muscular frame visible under his clothes. Yet it was the clothes that confounded me: servant's rags. How could a man in his prime be subjected to labor? And for vampires what's more?

He was obviously enjoying my discomfort in this situation, as the corner of his lip upturned into a smirk. The smile was contagious as I found myself smiling at him. Upon realizing; however, I resumed my scowl.

"My name is Layden, M'Lady." He answered, giving a swift, rather awkward bow. The smile disappeared, and he put on his most humble face. "Is there anything I can fetch for you? Would you like me to have the maids draw you a bath before resting? It is rather late for one of your—er—kind, Madam."

His voice was rich and strong. Not deep, however, just—confident.

"No, no, I'm fine, thank you. Layden—could you tell me why you are here? I thought this room was deserted," I asked.

He let out a small laugh. "If I had the freedom, M'Lady, I would ask you the same," he answered. He paused, running his hand down the spines of the books on the nearest shelf before continuing to speak: "This room is why I do not mind being a servant here. I come when I am done with the day's chores and simply read the hours away. I did often wonder why different books were moved, but I eventually pinned it on ghosts, who, I thought, shared the same tastes in books as I," he said as a small laugh once more escaped his lips.

A smile escaped my restraint as I sat back down on the chair (with more grace this time, I might add). "Well do you care to join me this morning, Layden?" I asked, gesturing to another seat a few paces away.

"I would love to, M'Lady." He said after demonstrating another of his awkward bows.

He lowered into the chair and picked up a black book with a crude diamond-shaped dragon on the cover. We sat in a moment of silence, the air around us quiet and musty, the only thing splitting it were his heartbeats, our breath, and the soft turning of pages.

I felt something needed to be said, yet nothing was so important as to say, and so, despite my better judgment, I said nothing at all. We sat, side by side, servant and lady, for hours on end, absorbed into separate lands. As dusk approached, I realized it: we were no longer servant and lady,

We were friends.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Here is the first _scheduled_ update! I must say, with the chapters being this short, I'm rather happy with the turnout I've been getting. Although on the other hand, with over 200 views and only 3 _re_views, what're you other 197 people doing? My goal for this entire story is 100 reviews, so you people need to make that happen!_

In the early hours of the evening I wandered into the dining hall, bidding my new-found companion a good rest. Knowing my absence would cause my already worrisome mother additional stress, I abandoned all thoughts of rest and was on the hunt for a meal.

As my hands closed around a tankard I stifled a yawn. Hoping it was not noticed, I quickly filled the container with blood from the nearest cask and found my seat amongst my already-bickering parents.

"I tell you, Valerica, this prophecy is different! The end of the sun! Can you imagine the result? We would be free!" My father exclaimed, spreading his arms towards the ceiling melodramatically.

Mother glared. "Can you imagine the repercussions? Once word spread that we were to blame, all of Nirn would be after us. As wonderful as no sun sounds, I have to say I am opposed to the idea."

I quietly sipped the blood, watching the conversation unravel. The idea as a whole was rather foolish, this ending the sun. The repercussions would extend far beyond hatred from the world. No sun meant no warmth, no plants, no food, and as an end result: no life. This prophecy would bring about the death of more than just the sun; we would be essentially slitting our own throats.

"Opposed?" Father's voice rose, drawing the attention of the whole gathering crowd in the dining hall. "You oppose the ending of the sun, and yet you call yourself a vampire? Do you not see the potential? The power?" He incited.

I called upon all the gods and princes to just swallow me up then and there in fear of the ensuing speech and embarrassment, yet they chose to not show me any mercy.

"We hide in the shadows for fear of the sun's scorching light. We sleep during the day and hunt at night so our blood will not boil us alive. We cower in fear when the castle doors open, letting in a sliver of the wretched brightness. How can we call ourselves the strongest creature on earth when nothing more than light sends us scampering away like some mortal beast? I plan to change everything! I will not rest until an eternal darkness falls upon this land, ending the tyranny of the sun once and for all! Nothing can stop me! I will do anything it takes, mark my words! A new age is dawning upon Skyrim: The Age of Darkness!"

Father spread his arms to the listening crowd, causing a wave of agreement to wash across the room. Mother and I simply stayed seated, continuing to dine. Father could start a new age if he wanted, but the sun would stay. It had to—_right_?


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: So here's the deal: I was told by multiple people (via review, PM, and actual face-to-face by a few of my friends) that these chapters need to be *much* longer. So to do that, the catch is that it takes me longer to *write* them. This chapter will be about as long as I'll strive to make them *if* you'd rather have longer waits and more material. If you all liked the weekly updates, let me know and I'll continue on that route. Thanks for reading my incessant babbling and enjoy! ;)_

* * *

"Might I ask a question, M'Lady?" A voice brought me back to sad reality. I lifted my gaze from the streets of Solitude to meet Layden's scrutinizing stare.

Closing the book and resting it in my lap, I answered. "About?"

He looked uncomfortable as he also closed his book. "I was passing through the dining hall on my way to the servants' quarters last night and I heard your Father's speech. He is not really trying to actually—you know—"

I chuckled. "End the sun?"

He nodded.

Closing the book in my lap, my mind raced for a good explanation. "I wish I could say he is not. He has this theory that ending the sun will create a new age in which vampires rule. My mother and I are on you mortals' side. Blacking out the sun will destroy all life on Nirn, not start a new era," I explained.

He shook his head. "It is madness. What does he think he must do?" He asked. "How does he even know it is possible?"

I shrugged. "A few vampires returned from one of my father's errands with an Elder Scroll some years ago. He has been trying to decipher its text ever since, and is only just now beginning to understand its meaning."

His eyes grew wide. "An Elder Scroll? I was just reading about them! It is rumored that they are from before time, relics from another world. D-did it say anything else?"

"The scroll itself explains what you will need, but my father is far from knowing what," I answered.

He grew somber. "Well I hope he never does know. Knowing there is light in this world is what keeps me from going mad, dwelling in this dark place."

I could not help but agree with him. "I often think the same thing myself, Layden."

This Nord was a mortal version of myself. He lived amongst vampires against his will, keeping sane by knowing there is a bright world out there—somewhere; his only ticket into that world being books from an abandoned library deep in the heart of a miskept castle.

"Why do you not just leave then?" He asked, snapping me out of my comparison.

I was taken back. Leave? I couldn't leave! Not after everything I went through. The ritual; the slow, on-going issues with my parents; and the century of difficult adjustments made the idea alone of returning to that state unbearable.

"I could never go back after everything I've been through. You do not understand what being a vampire entails," I returned. Pain grew in my eyes as I thought of the events an hundred years before. The ritual, it—I could not even begin to explain it to him.

"I am not trying to pry, M'Lady, but I would if you would tell me," He answered.

I envied his talent of seeming respectful yet concerned. My parents had taught me many things, but how to care was not exactly high on their list of characteristics.

"It would take another hundred years for me to even begin to tell you," I summed up.

He laughed a light, airy laugh. "It is not as if I have anywhere to go, M'Lady."

I smiled, looking down at the book in my lap. Something about this Nord made me want to open up, what, I wasn't sure.

"First of all, please, call me Serana."

* * *

Weeks went by without incident. Every other day we would meet in the library and exchange our stories. Layden always informed me his stories were merely retellings of a normal life, yet what with a century secluded from exactly that, I couldn't help but find myself being entranced by them. Mine own tales were always darker, more gruesome, yet they seemed to put him on the edge of his seat. If only it were possible for us to change lives, we would both feel as if we were on an adventure.

I rarely saw my parents in these times, only dining with them in order for their suspicion to not grow on where I kept escaping to. From the conversations I heard; however, their already-strained relationship was diminishing fast over this mindless prophecy.

My father continued to believe this mad idea would somehow help the world, and my mother continued to reject his constant pleas to join him. Their tolerance towards each other (as 'love' had ended decades before) was turning into abhorrence over something that I knew was either dangerous or mere fantasy, and all I could do was watch. I felt as if while it was tearing them further apart, it was also tearing me apart from them. I could not bear to see them fighting, so I avoided them, choosing rather to pass the days with my new-found friend: Layden.

I truly felt as if I could finally bear to live in this dark place now that I knew I was not alone. I had accepted this life because I felt as if it was not mine to reject, and he accepted this life because it was his dealt hand, and he was trying to make the best of it. I despised the darkness because it made me feel as dead as I truly was, and he despised the darkness simply because he was made to dwell in the light.

We were the opposite sides of the same coin.

I sat in the library, enthralled by the beaten pages of a particularly interesting tome. This 'Book of the Dragonborn' was quite an intriguing, if not entertaining, book. A mortal with the soul of a dragon? It hardly sounded plausible, yet if it was true, I could only hope to meet such a-

My contemplation was cut short by a familiar, yet rushed sound: _ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum._

I glanced up with a smile, expecting to see Layden's usual smirk meet my gaze. Instead, he wore a frown, looking rather shaken by something.

I quickly closed the black, leather-bound volume and quickly stood, fearing what could cause the ever-calm Nord to be on edge. "Is something wrong?" I asked, somewhat fearing his answer.

His eyes grew dark. "Your mother, word has it she is looking for you...secretly."

* * *

My mother's face was filled with anxiety and apprehension. She stood in the courtyard at early dawn, a time when I would usually be wrapped up in a book or fast asleep. Fearing the news, yet relishing the fact that I was _told_ to venture out during the day, I strode confidently towards my mother.

"You called?" I simply asked.

She quickly closed the space between us and clenched my shoulders, gazing at me with a broad smile. "We are finally doing it!" She vaguely revealed, still grinning at me.

I lifted an eyebrow. "What exactly is 'it'?"

She laughed a light-hearted laugh, one I had not heard her utter for decades. "We are leaving! Running!"

My mouth opened in shock. Running? From Father? Is that possible? My heart filled with both joy and utter despair. Those books: the lighthouse in Solitude, the plains of Whiterun, the rumored assassins in the Pale; could I possibly be able to see them with mine own eyes? Yet I couldn't help but remember the books themselves, and more importantly, the man I shared them with. I was getting everything I ever wished for, yet I was trading it for everything I ever cared about. I had done this once, yet doing it again—it would be my undoing if it was as bad as the first time.

"I—I do not—why?" I stumbled through my words.

She laughed—literally _laughed_. "Why? 'Why should we not' is a better question, m'dear. Your father is dead; he died the day he learned of this foolish prophecy. He has uncovered a book that deciphered the remaining text, and what he relayed to his advisers is not good—to say the least. Ralva, the poor woman, confided in me what your father discovered," she sighed before continuing: "I will not say what it said, dearest, but we cannot stay."

"Where will we go?" I asked, still unsure.

She laughed, more out of pure joy than my disbelief. "A clan of vampires in Dimhollow Cave has agreed to take us in, just until we find a place of our own."

"Dimhollow—is not that a crypt?" I asked, the name once appearing in a tome I had read, which one, I was not sure.

She nodded. "Yes it is, a cursed one, in fact, or so the carefully nursed rumors say. No one in their right mind will dare to venture there. We will be safe. After a time we will find a house of our own, far away from Skyrim itself. We will go to Cyrodil or maybe High Rock; anything to ensure that Harkon does not find us," She plotted.

I nodded, decisively. If she was running, it was for a reason. This was beyond my control. I would follow—at least for the time being.

"When do we leave?" I asked.

She smiled, pulling me into an embrace.

I had never seen her like this. She was always the very personification of proper. She taught me to always shadow my emotions, never show who I really was. Your enemies would take it and turn it against you if you did. Why was she so—giddy, now?

"Are—are you alright, Mother?" I ventured.

Gently pushing me back so she could stare into my eyes, she answered. "Never better, dear, never better. And as for when, we leave now. Do not take anything; it will raise too many questions. Just come, dear."

* * *

The scorching sun beat down as we trudged through the snow. The light burned not only my blood, but also my eyes as it reflected off of the pure, virgin snow. The only noise accompanying the swishing of our clothes was the wind rushing through the ever-hibernating trees and the singing of the wind-blown birds.

Cautiously darting my eyes from dark crevice to crevice, I couldn't help but feel impending danger. We were escapees, royalty running from our own castle, escaping the evil master of the court. An audible laugh escaped my lips as I recalled reading a similar tale. Snow White-now all I needed was a Prince Charming and seven silly Dwemer.

"Something amusing, Serana?" Mother asked, flashing me a quick smile. She returned her gaze to the snowy surface so she did not trip as I answered: "Nothing of importance, I just found this whole situation familiar, yet completely different, to a book I once read."

"What book was that?" She asked, genuinely interested.

I smiled, recalling the name. "Snow White and the Seven Dwemer. I found it in an abandoned library soon after we arrived at the castle. It is quite the interesting tale."

Mother angled her steps so she neared me. Resting her arm across my shoulders, she inquired: "How does it end?"

I couldn't help but shake my head. "It ends with some nonsense about a dead royal and true love. Nothing I could ever relate to."

She laughed. "Who knows, m'dear? All fairytales hold a splinter of truth, truth which often blossoms into reality in the most surprising of ways."

I nodded as I dwelt on her words. I supposed she was referring to—I could not even begin to guess. Was she so twisted as to wish death upon her husband of over one-hundred years? Or could she truly wish that I might one day find a husband of mine own to pass the centuries with? Could compassion truly be on her list of characteristics she finally realized she never endowed upon me?


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: And I'm back! Here is another long update. I got no replies as to which length you all prefer, so I am going to continue with the longer chapters as I get them completed and beta-read. I am *hoping* to keep posting every 6-10 days, but as I said, longer chapters take longer to write, so no promises._

_A/N 2: The first three chapters got me a nice amount of reviews, and people promised to help me make my 100 review goal. That was very encouraging and awesome. I just have to ask...where did everyone go? I had originally planned 50 chapters (this is a rough estimate), and right now we're at chapter 5. If I don't get 3 reviews with this chapter, we'll be behind. So c'mon everyone, let's make this happen. I got faith in you all! ;)_

* * *

"Welcome home, dear," Mother said, gesturing to a dark entrance on the side of a snowy mountain. It was eerie—but nothing I was not used to by this point in my life, given the circumstances.

I bravely (or so I imagined) led the way into the darkness, being glad, for once, of my undead status. The welcoming chamber looked as rundown and dark as I had imagined when first being told my new residence would be a crypt. It was almost pitch black in the majority of the space, but what I could make out was this: the room was oval in shape, with a metal grate leading who-knows-where stationed at the far end. Three stone columns supported the stone roof of the structure, and while it looked natural—it also looked sturdy. A small waterfall poured from a hole in the otherwise-solid ceiling, forming a pool in the center of the room. The ground was covered with snow, doubtlessly blown in the cave from the strong winds outside, but what areas _weren't_ covered were stone, dirt, or mud.

"Home sweet—cave," I mumbled, continuing to take in this...lovely abode.

Mother chuckled. "This is the cover-up. Ravla told me there is a hidden passage somewhere on the far wall. We had best look."

As I started in the direction of the wall, I could not help but notice a few signs that someone had recently been here. Any skilled tracker—or simply a very keen eye—would know that someone had been in this very cave, and been in it often. A recently dimmed candle stood on a column to my left, it's wax still dripping; an overturned wooden bucket, in perfect condition, floated in the small pond in the center of the room; and a Dragon's Tongue flower (which require a great deal of care if not kept in very limited conditions) sprouted from a single beam of light—all plain signs of habitation.

Shaking my head at the carelessness, I glanced down at my feet to avoid falling into the pool. I was further distressed when I saw what was at my feet. A clear pathway was trod from the entrance of the cave, followed the left wall past the metal grate, and continued to follow the wall around to my right. I could not see where it stopped, but I assumed it probably led to this secret passage.

The trampled snow and dirt led me to a small staircase leading to an elevated platform. A wooden chest, a small wooden table, and a half-melted candle (whose wax was, once more, still dripping) occupied a small room. A large, open window gave a perfect viewing of the cave's entrance.

"A guardhouse" I assumed with a frown. If this was the place Mother had deemed 'safe', I was no long completely sure about this…

I shook the idle thoughts from my mind as my gaze fell to the walls. If I could find simply a crack in the wall, an air-vent, or even—

I let out a laugh at the simplicity of the design. A half-rusted, crude, iron pull-chain hung before me on the wall. The upper end of the chain was imbedded in the stone walls of the cave, obviously being connected to a doorway or gate somewhere near—or maybe a trap. Giving the metal ring at the lower end a slow, hesitant pull, I cautiously glanced around me as I waited for any sign of change.

A low, grinding noise was the only response I got that told me the chain had even worked. I gave a victorious nod once I was sure the noise was not hostile. Descending from the guardhouse, I looked around the cave in order to find Mother and tell her of the recent developments.

I found her down below in the center of the main chamber, near the pool rippling from the tumbling waterfall. As I approached from behind, I took in her stance, trying to decipher her thoughts: she had her left hand on her hip while her right was rested on her chin in thought. Before I even made my presence known, she spoke:

"This just will not do, not at all," she mumbled, turning to face me.

I nodded my understanding. "I agree. The hot wax from the candles, the Dragon's Tongue flower, even the bucket in the pool: all far too obvious. Oh, and do you know what the 'secret entrance' is hidden by, Mother? It's a pull-chain—an ordinary, completely conspicuous _chain_. If Father gets w—" I paused, silenced by Mother's confused stare. I was obviously babbling on and on about something completely unrelated to her thoughts. Fidgeting my fingers nervously, I looked down at the floor before speaking. "The—The chain is not what you were speaking of…is it?"

Mother grew a soft smile. "No, I cannot say it was. I _do_ agree with your observations though. What I _was_ thinking of, dear, was the fact that we are but a day's journey from Castle Volkihar. If your father saw what direction we ran, he could be here before nightfall tomorrow. We need—we need a plan of action, Serana." She started pacing the welcoming chamber, her head lowered in thought. "We need to go somewhere your father would never even _think_ to look…"

I paused a moment, not sure where this was going. "What are you saying, Mother?" Where else could she possibly want me to go? Father had a seemingly infinite amount of resources and contacts, if he truly wanted to find us, then I had no doubt he would. _Out-running_ was not going to happen, so now she wanted to _hide_? This was not a child's game of hide-and-seek. Mother kept making it sound as if we were both in mortal peril.

This was survival.

She frowned as she discontinued her pacing. "Worry not, Serana. I will think of a place. We should go and meet our new hosts." She motioned me deeper into the cave, past where the metal grate had once stood at the far end of the room. I supposed that was what the metal chain had accomplished. "Shall we?"

I absent-mindedly nodded and once more led the way into the darkness. I would still follow, at least for the moment. She could lead me around blindly for a while longer, and I would try to pry some more details from her. I was determined to not be a pawn in their little game. I had been once before, but no longer…

* * *

"Welcome to Dimhollow, My Ladies. If there is any way we can be of service, you need but ask." A slim, kind woman bowed as she spoke. Her hair was a dark brown, seemingly black if she entered a shadow. I imagined her eyes to be a light, cobalt blue if she were not a vampire, but as it was they were the same as the rest of ours: a deep red, the color of blood.

The rock walls of the cave had gone from a jagged, natural form to a smooth, homely atmosphere quite some paces ago, and, doubtlessly due to some sort of ventilation system, the air had turned a lot clearer and lighter. It felt as if we were back in the halls of the castle instead of deep underground. Despite the lack of décor, it was a very comfortable welcoming area.

Mother inclined her head in response. "Thank you, madam. My name is Valerica, and this is my daughter, Serana. We are very thankful for your kind hospitality."

The woman turned to face me, the fabric of her long, red silk skirt billowing from the movement. "A pleasure, M'Lady."

I flinched at the expression, but remembered my manners and nodded with a smile. '_It is not as if I have anywhere to go, M'Lady.' _The laughter-filled words echoed through my mind from four weeks previous. That moment had been the last time I had been called 'M'Lady' (the rest of the court merely calling me Lady Serana), and it still hurt to know that the odds of my seeing him again were getting slimmer by the minute.

Layden's laugh had been the one thing I had missed above all else the day before. We had set up camp when we could not walk anymore, finally collapsing in the early afternoon. Lying on the grass in a small, dry patch amongst the marshes surrounding Morthal, I watched the sky darken from a bright blue into a deep orange, and finally black. It was the first day that I had not talked with Layden in over two weeks. My only comfort had been gazing at the stars above and watching the moons spin about each other as if practiced partners in a ball-room dance. Although the moons were largest, the brightest stars yellow or white, the heavenly bodies that stood out to me the most were two small, dimming stars. The only two dark blue stars in the sky—the same color as his eyes.

I shook my head from my deep thoughts to see the kind woman gone, and Mother staring at me worriedly. "Are you well, Serana dear?"

I immediately nodded, but I knew my actions deceived me. I could _feel_ the disconcerting air that surrounded me; I had a feeling it would be just as visible.

Contrary to my expectations of being questioned further, Mother just gave me a last, concerned gaze and turned back to the arched path leading out of the foyer.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: First, and foremost, I wish everyone a happy Single's Awareness Day! May we enjoy our solidarity and freedom while it lasts! ;) Oh…and if you have a significant other, Happy Valentine's Day. May your relationship strengthen and grow, and may your love blossom…I guess…_

_A/N 2: All chuckles aside, I wrote this chapter specifically for Valentine's Day. It is kind of a fluff-chapter. I'm not too happy with it, but I wanted something love-oriented for you guys (as if the ending of the last one wasn't love-oriented enough, I know) since everyone's kind of in the romance-spirit. So bear with me, and we'll get back to the plotline soon enough. Enjoy! ;)_

* * *

The further we ventured into Dimhollow, the more I knew I could _definitely_ get used to staying in the cave. Trinkets littered shelves, paintings adorned walls, sconces lit up comfortable parlors, and it just generally emitted a 'homey' feeling. I was not sure whether Father was stricter, or these vampires were more laid-back, but I could not have been happier. I was getting my first look into the lives of, while not a _normal _life-style, a more contemporary one. It was fascinating.

While I was thrilled with the events that were seemingly monotonous to the residents of Dimhollow, part of me was yearning to return home to Volkihar. It was strange: if you had told me five weeks ago that I could leave and never return, I would have left straightaway and never looked back, yet now I was _homesick_. I was _homesick_ over a place where I was in terrible danger, never happy, and surrounded by a rapidly deteriorating family. What changed in my life?

I suppose the proper question would be '_Who_ changed in my life?'

For as much as I hated to admit it, that day I had run through the castle hallways had changed my life forever. The young (albeit dashing) servant had turned my life on its head, and right when I had _dared_ to hope I was forming something _tangible_—the slate was wiped clean once more.

I sat on top of the silken sheets of my bed, twirling a quill in my hands absentmindedly. I wished desperately to write him, to just tell him 'goodbye', yet I did not know what to say. I glanced around the room, searching for inspiration.

The posted bed stood in the middle of the room against the wall. A large, ornate chest stood at the end of the bed, extra beddings and curtains tucked neatly inside. A table with a single chair sat in the southeast corner of the room, hidden away against the door leading out into the caverns. A chandelier hung above me, made from iron rods and hollowed out horns. A large wardrobe stood on the wall to my right, filled to the brim with dresses and jackets (which were far too elaborate for my tastes).

Just as I was about to give up my vain efforts, I looked at the last remarkable piece in the entire room: a painting just to the left of the door. In colors far more vibrant than what I expected, a simple rose was painted. It was laid on a polished wooden table, its green stem standing out brilliantly from the deep brown of its background. Dark red petals cascaded from the stem, their colors reminding me of my very eyes. Yet, as the expression goes, every rose has its thorns, and this one was no different. What _was_ different was what laced the thorns: blood. Small, almost invisible, droplets scattered the thorns and the table below them.

I readjusted the quill in my hands and fetched a sheet of paper. A book from the nightstand served as my writing desk, and I began:

_Dear Layden,_

_I am writing to inform you of what I am sure you have already heard: I have left. Mother has taken me and we have retreated into the great wide world. It is her wish that we never return. I do not know why it must be this way, but Mother assures me it must. She has told me some great evil has been discovered from Father's Elder Scroll, yet she will not say exactly what. She has said our lives are in danger, and that we cannot stay, yet she will not say why._

_I know I have probably put not only my own life in danger, but yours as well. I hope and pray to the Divines that this finds you safely, and no harm comes to you because of this note. I know you must already have realized this, but I am afraid this must be a one-way correspondence. To give you my location would put both of our lives in even more danger than they are in now._

_I miss our times together in the library. I miss looking up from my book and seeing you asleep in your chair, the book resting, still opened, in your lap. I miss our talks together in front of the fire, speaking of everything, yet nothing at all. I miss the times we would sit in comfortable silence, engulfed in some world that is dozens of times better than this sad realty._

_But most of all: I miss you._

_I am looking at a painting as I write this. I will not say where, for once again, I must remain hidden. It is of a simple, red rose, sitting peacefully on a polished table. Its stem is a vibrant green, cut in the prime of its life. On its several thorns lies blood, the amassing of it dripping down onto the table below._

_This rose reminds me of our time together: peaceful, wonderful, and beautiful. It is in the prime of its life, and is set to continue to grow for some time more. Yet there must always be some pain amongst the beautifulness of this world. The Elder Scroll is our pain, Layden. I wish my father had never found it. I wish I had never run. I wish Father had never become this cruel._

_I wish I could be there with you._

_I must end this now, for if I do not, I fear I will never stop writing. Rest assured that you are not forgotten, and you will never be. I will write to you again when I can._

_Yours truly,  
Serana_

I reread the note perhaps a dozen times. It had to sound perfect before I could seal it. I wanted him to know how I felt. I wanted him to know that he was not so easily forgotten.

I wanted him to know I _cared_.

I felt deep down that I would never see him again. I felt deep down that something would happen to one, if not both, of us before this grand scheme was over, yet that small part of my heart that was not _quite_ so undead refused to listen to these feelings.

Maybe…maybe those feelings were wrong. Maybe after a few weeks father would come to his senses? Maybe he would realize he was throwing his own _family_ away for something written in a _scroll_? Maybe—

_Oh who am I kidding?_ I thought with remorse. _Father is a power-hungry monster who only cares for himself. He will never give up this madness—and I'll never see him again._

I took the paper in hand to rip it up—but I could not bring myself to do it. Whether or not I saw him again, he at least deserved to know what happened to me. He still deserved to know I thought of him.

I folded the letter up, and, using the candlestick on my nightstand, I let a few drops of wax fall onto the folded ends of paper.

I would give it to the kind maid that had spoken to us when we first arrived, and ask that it be delivered after we, as Mother put it 'found a place he would never look'.

I only wished Layden could join us there.

* * *

A week passed without incident, and still the letter sat in the chest at the end of my bed, encased in the beddings and curtains. After three days, I could no longer open the chest without being tempted to immediately send off the note. So I, instead of endangering our lives, merely avoided the room. My nights were spent where they had been before: in a library.

Except this library was not as the one in Castle Volkihar.

The library in Volkihar was filled to the brim with novels on heroes, daring adventures, romance, mysteries, and horrors. Every person in the entire land could come and find something to suit their tastes. The library in Dimhollow was not so. The books here were filled with manuals on Magic Wielding or Sword Fighting. It seemed that the vampires here, while kind, were practical. Not a single novel was in sight.

Instead of merely leaving the library in hopes of another pursuit, I read the books anyway. I found, after much experimentation, that I had a knack for magic. The spell-books were rather varied in their difficulty, so I focused on the simpler ones. Four days in, and I could already summon familiars, cast fire and thunder, and even summon light. I felt rather accomplished, but most of all, I felt empty.

I felt empty, because despite my greatest efforts, I had not taken my mind off of Layden for a _moment_ in the past three days. I thought of what he may have thought of my recent studies. I wondered if he himself had ever studied Magic. I wondered if, perhaps, there was a teleportation spell that I could use to see him.

But most of all: I wondered if _he_ thought of _me_. I wondered if maybe he had already forgotten about me. I feared that the relationship we had built was just a delusional dream I had made up due to my loneliness. I feared that the whole situation was just one-sided, that to him I was just his mistress: a figure he could befriend for an advantage if ever called upon by the higher court—a pawn.

I immediately shook the last thought away. A pawn—I would never be a pawn again. I had once—but never again. I would never be used again like I had so many decades ago. I was smarter than that—I was more than just a pawn.

I would overcome this just like I had so many other trials before. I would find a way to safely return to Volkihar. I would find a way to make sure Father saw reality. I would find a way to destroy this Elder Scroll that Father had let delude his mind.

I would find a way to return to Layden.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: So after that brief, lovey-dovey interlude…back to the plot. I totally spaced out congratulating you all *last* chapter, but I do believe we made it to 1000 hits! Here's hoping for 2000…_

_A/N 2: Once again… I'm apparently doing something wrong, as the incoming reviews pretty much laid down and died... I wasn't really fond of that last chapter, so maybe that's why? If so, please lemme know and I'll try and improve it! Don't forget to review, everyone, as we still are shooting for our 100 review goal!_

* * *

The library was still my escape three days later. I rarely left the large chamber, and the rare times I did were merely for food, drink, or sleep. My mind was whirling with enchantments and spells, so much that often times, while practicing, I would mix them up. Thankfully, so far the results had not been anything worse than a broken lantern and a bruise on my self-confidence.

That afternoon, I was reading through a particularly interesting book when a voice beckoned me from across the Library: "Serana, dear, have you left this room at all, this evening?"

I glanced up from the thick volume and greeted Mother with a small smile. "Hello, Mother! I can't say I have…" I said, flashing a guilty smile. "Losing yourself in a book is the best way to escape your troubles, though, is it not?"

Mother nodded trimly. "Indeed it is. And what is this particular escape centered around, if I might ask?"

I closed the book and handed it to her, awaiting her impending reaction. Mother had often seen me in the Library, but she had not taken an interest as to what I was reading until now. I was not sure how she would react.

I did not have to wait long, however, as once she took the book in hand, she sent me a questioning gaze. "A spell-book?"

A small, sheepish smile surfaced. So far the reaction was better than I had hoped for. "Not quite a romantic masterpiece, but I could not find anything too immersing, so I took the most useful, instead."

She handed it back acquiescently. "Fair enough, I suppose. Magic can only help us at this point, I am sure. Although if you had wanted to learn, I would have been more than willing to teach you what I know. The black arts are a hobby of mine."

I paused, taken back at this new revelation. Mother? Black arts? I would not have believed it if I had not heard it myself! I had never taken her for a sorceress—let alone a _black_ sorceress. Sure, she was a powerful alchemist, but there was a broad dissimilarity—one I was not aware she had encompassed.

"Conjuration? You—you're a sorceress?" I stammered, still in disbelief.

Mother laughed. "I suppose you could say that. I am far from a master, but I _am_ capable of more than just a few parlor tricks. I had tried to keep it a secret while at the castle. You can imagine your father would not have taken well to the concept. But seeing as now it is just you and me, I think it has been under wraps long enough."

I could not help but shake my head at this new development. Vampires could raise the dead—it was an instilled power—but to further study it? To what end? Immortality is rather pointless, and to try and raise the dead _without_ our instinctual abilities is a rather simple incantation—surely not advanced enough as to have to fervidly study. What is her motivation?

"Whatever compelled you to pursue the dark arts, Mother?" I asked, phrasing my question with as much detachment as possible.

She smiled distantly, doubtlessly recalling the event in her mind. "It was something your grandmother taught me so long ago. You were not even born yet, dear. Your mother was a great and powerful enchantress. It was rumored that she could bring the dead back to life. Not just raise their bodies—but their _souls_.

"I had not wanted to learn it then. I thought, as I believe you think now, that the dark arts were dangerous—hunger-inducing. It took me many years for me to realize, Serana, but I finally discovered this: Magic is only as evil as the person who wields it. The black arts can be used for good just as easily as the white arts can be used for evil."

A question had appeared in my mind, and I used this opportunity to ask it: "Why did she not use her power to become immortal? She passed before I was even born."

Mother frowned, clenching her fists in an effort to remain calm at the virulent memories. "She was murdered. Your grandmother was a powerful and wise woman, yet she was not without her enemies. A white mage from the Psijic Order was said to have killed her for her dangerous potential. I know not whether that is true, as the Order rarely takes an interest in such paltry mages, but nothing has proven it false over the years."

"'Paltry'? I thought you said that she was 'great and powerful'?" I countered.

Mother nodded. "Indeed I did. The Psijic Order is capable of great and many things, and so even our most accomplished mages are but insignificant court wizards in their eyes. It is said when a sorcerer is coming close to matching their own wit, they are either inducted into the Order or destroyed, depending on their intentions."

"Oh" was all I had managed to say. Not even a month before, I had dreamt of sailing the high seas in search of one of their own, yet now I had learned that one of them had killed my grandmother. Fate is a cruel, twisted author, spinning its own plots for the mere enjoyment of it, it seems.

I had only to hope that it would give my intricately woven scheme a happy ending.

* * *

A week passed without incident. Despite Mother's constant pleas for me to remain on my guard, I could not help but relax in the cozy atmosphere that surrounded our new shelter. I knew what danger we were constantly shrouded in, yet it was hard to keep my guard up when everything felt so _safe._

While I was currently happy with my new surroundings, I knew change was afoot. Multiple times, I had travelled from the library to my chambers, and would come upon Mother crowded around some of the crypt's more authoritative residents. Upon seeing my presence, they would quickly turn silent, leaving me guessing as to their subject of choice.

If I had to guess, I would say that they were speaking of Mother and I's next move. She had mentioned at the gate that we could not stay here, as it was under a day's travel away. Despite this, I was almost positive that, if this arrangement was truly only temporary, that we would have departed long before.

Instead of fretting about our impending change, I simply continued on in the Library. I might as well enjoy what comforts I could get now, instead of worrying over when I will lose them.

As the selection of books was widely different than to what I was accustomed, my intrigue was still burning bright, especially with the spell books. I had begun memorizing spells and incantations from Dark Magic tomes under Mother's watchful eye. I was still skeptical that she had been correct when she said 'Magic can only help us', as some of the spells she taught were far from practical. I still studied them without delay, however. If Mother wanted to spend time with me, even under the guise of training, I would not question it.

I was sitting in my own chambers, studying over one troublesome bound-weapon spell, when I heard a faint, metallic sound erupting from far off. In the past week, I had grown used to the normal vibrations that come with living this deep underground, so I knew this was something foreign.

I hesitated, thinking over my options. I could go investigate, as it was likely only one of the Death-hounds, doubtlessly raiding the unattended larder. I would certainly sleep better, knowing it was not an intruder. Or, I could remain in my chambers, where I was a lot safer were it something hostile. If I took this route, however, I would be up all day, too frightened to sleep as I listened to the faint crashing.

I placed the book down on the bedside, rising to my feet. I was not about to let some irksome, undead animal rob me of my sleep.

Just as my hand was placed on the doorknob, I heard the same noise… yet it sounded closer. It was definitely some metal hitting metal. The smithy was on the far side of the cave structure, and even if it was close, its doors were equipped with Muffle spells, ensuring they could work around the clock without complaints. The armory was not far from it with the same enchantments. Whatever was making this noise doubtlessly was not supposed to be.

And it was getting ever nearer.

I let out a deep, shaky breath. It was my duty now to see what was wrong, and do my best to fix it. I reached down to the hem of my leggings, and lifted the right leg up past my boot, exposing the hilt of a steel dagger. I pulled it out of its hidden sheath, gripping it with the blade facing away. _It's never wrong to be too cautious_, I thought, trying to convince myself that I was just being paranoid.

I held the dagger behind my back, and opened the door:

"Lady Serana," my eyes grew wide at the sight before me. It was Dmitri, one of Father's most prized warriors, "I say it's time we take you _home" _he snarled, his blood red eyes glowing with determination. "Your father has been working for your _safe_ return. We shan't keep him waiting, shall we?"


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Well this chapter was quite the chore to write. It kept going in strange directions, but I finally got it going in the general direction I was hoping for. I do hope you like where I am taking this…No one has actually complained, so I'm guessing so? If not, lemme know what you *don't* like, and what I can do to fix it. Thanks!_

* * *

My grip around the hilt of the dagger grew with every passing moment. My eyes darted from meeting Dmitri's gaze, to the tunnel beyond the shadowed doorway. I had to assess the circumstances, and come up with a plan. I could not just _submit_! There had to be a way out of this situation, and I was determined to find it.

His sword was in its sheath, and his stance was relaxed, assuming he had found victory. If I ran, I could probably get passed him, but what of any potential comrades? The route back to the surface was long, and the pathways narrow. I could outrun one, but there is no telling how many others I would have to try and slip past.

My other option was to try and fight my way out. I had the obvious advantage with this one man, but a dagger was not enough to kill him in one strike. He would doubtlessly call for help, and I would be swiftly out-numbered. _I could try using magic? _The thought briefly crossed my mind before I threw it out. I was a novice apprentice, not a skill sorcerer. If nothing else, my poor attempt would fail and he would die of laughter!

Dmitri took one unwelcomed step forward. "Come on, Lady Serana, do not look so frightened. I am sure you will have a nice, _romantic_ meeting when we return to the castle. I am sure the slave boy is just _dying_ to see you."

An audible gasp escaped my bounds at the statement. Despite the danger of the current situation, my only thoughts were on the letter… the letter that was _supposed_ to be tucked away safely in the chest at the foot of my bed.

I raced across the room with the speed only a Vampire can reach. Within the same moment, the chest was opened, and the linens scattered abroad. As I pulled the last sheet away, my worst fears became reality:

The letter was gone.

"I—I do not understand" I breathed, spinning to face my father's warrior once more. My fury doubled as I took an imposing step forward. The letter, despite its accidental delivery, never listed our location. On top of this, correspondence between Vampires was anonymous, with post being ferried via specially-trained bats, never by messengers. "How? How did you find us?"

The Nord grew a proud sparkle in his eye as he crossed his arms in a boastful display. "It was rather easy, actually. The painting you so _passionately_ referred to was a gift, from our lord to the master here. It was a sign of peace. A truce, if you will. A truce, that is, that was _broken_ with the events that unfolded here in the past two weeks."

I froze, the dagger dropping subconsciously behind me. "You killed them, all of them, didn't you?"

The warrior shrugged, keeping his position: a step inside my chambers, right before the door. "Orders are orders, Lady Serana. I do my job, and your father keeps me around. He ordered the return of you and your mother, and your little friends tried to keep us from doing _just that._ Now if you are done with this idle chat, we had best be off. The Lord Harkon is not a patient man, I am sure you need not be reminded."

I took one last look at the door, still trying to decide my fate, when Dmitri cast a wicked glare at me.

"Before you go getting any funny ideas, your father has asked me to give you this." Dmitri pulled a crumpled up note from his chest pocket, handing it over to me carelessly. "He said 'it will ensure her good behavior', and you with you stealing glances at the doorway, something tells me you are thinking of displaying anything _but_ that."

I hesitantly unfolded the note, wondering what Father could possibly hold over my head to ensure I come quietly. The contents inside made my stomach curl with fright:

_ Serana,_

_Your flight has been the upmost display of immaturity. I know not why you fled, nor what your traitorous mother said to make you agree to do so, but what I _do_ know is what you so hesitantly left behind. I am sure you need not specifics, so I will leave you with this ultimatum:_

_You come quietly, and without a fight, and your little _pet_ lives. If I get word of _one_ act of resistance, however, he will be dead upon your arrival. And what with the punishment he has already received, I can assure you: it would be quite a simple process to finish him off._

_You have already pushed my patience to its very bounds, my dear; I recommend you do not try to stretch it any further._

_-Harkon_

The paper slipped from my hand as I finished reading it, and I grasped the bedpost to keep me upright. My head was a flood of varying emotions, each screaming to be unleashed. My first instinct was pure anxiety. Father had Layden, and he was hurt. The only thing I could do to help him was to put my very life in danger, an unknown danger at that.

The next emotion was hatred. I knew not who exactly this hatred was exclusively directed at, as I had many people to freely divide it between: Dmitri, for being 'the bearer of bad news'; the maids, for doubtlessly being the ones to discover the letter and so foolishly send it without my consent; Father, for using the accidently sent letter as blackmail to persuade me to return; or even Mother, for not telling me what exactly was so horrid that we were running from in the _first place_.

Another emotion was fear. This was not so shocking for me to discover, as there were many things I could be afraid of: my impending arrival at a court with an unknown danger, the fact that my father had the injured Layden in his grasp, the fact that I had a day's journey as a _prisoner_ to my very own home, or that I had no idea what state Mother was in at this very moment.

"Well, now. I assume he has quite the leverage on you, m'dear. I only wish he had something of the sort on your Mother. It would make the next twenty-four hours much, much nicer. On we go, then?"

With a subservient nod, I followed him out the doorway, and up along the path that leads to the surface.

* * *

The trip back to the castle was uneventful, yet nerve-wracking. I was exhausted by the end of the trip, yet the walk was not tiring. My exhaustion came from my being constantly on-edge. Everything I did, I did carefully, as to not cause my captors any anger. If I upset _one_ person, and they complained to Father, Layden's blood would be on my hands.

With one final, deep breath, I entered the dining hall. Father was sitting on his throne at the head of the hall, a blood-stained tankard halfway to his mouth. Upon seeing Mother (who was thankfully unscathed) and I's arrival, he paused. Setting the cup down, he swiftly arose, his features etched into a forced smile, one that didn't reach his blood-red eyes. "Well, well, well. It is nice to see you all have decided to come home. You have been _dearly_ missed." He paused, looking around at the varying inhabitants of the hall. "Leave us" was his simple, short command. Immediately, all the guards, servants, and residents filtered out unceremoniously, leaving only the three of us standing inside.

"I hate to jump to the interrogation so soon, but I cannot help but ask: why? Why leave your husband and father? Why, just when I begin to make a break-through, do you run off like a scared, little mortal?"

Mother scoffed before retorting: "'Why'? Why would I leave a man that is trying to blacken the sun and put _all_ of our lives in danger? Or why would I leave a man that is willing to kill his _own_ _family_ to accomplish it? I do not believe those questions really require an answer, Harkon."

I took a cautionary step back, trying to distance myself from Father. "You—_what_? Kill us? For what reason?"

Father turned to Mother, giving a glare that silently condemned her. "You have not told her of the revelation yet, have you?" He turned to me. "The end of the sun requires the blood of a pure-blooded Vampire, someone who has survived Coldharbour itself. The Elder Scroll revealed that, but not much else. Your mother, here, took that as a threat, and decided to run off."

I turned to Mother, giving her a questioning glance. "That is not all the scroll said, and you know it. Tell her the rest."

Father grew a menacing look in his eye, but obliged none-the-less. "It said the Vampire must be a woman. A Daughter of Coldharbour. It also said that for the effects to be _permanent_, the blood must be drawn from the heart itself."

I had a fair idea of where this was leading, but my mouth asked what my mind already knew: "So—you would have to _kill_ someone. Someone—like one of us?"

Mother put a hand on my shoulder. "Not 'like,' m'dear. You and I are the last living Daughters of Coldharbour. When the prophecy comes to pass, one of us would need to die to fulfill it."

"But—but do we really need to fulfill it? Cannot we just…_ignore it_? I—I do not understand—"

Harkon grew quiet, looking between the both of us. After one more moment, a dark cloud enveloped him, and the last glimpse I saw of him was a swarm of bats flying through the doorway of his study. I only hoped he realized what he would be doing to his own family. I only hoped he realized what he had just shown his own daughter:

He was a monster.

* * *

I only stood in the hall for one more passing moment, before I realized I could now go see _him._ I bid Mother a hasty farewell before my search began. I knew our relationship was common knowledge now, but I could not just _ask_ someone where he was! If I wanted to see him, I would be alone in finding my…

My brisk walk slowed to a crawl as my mind searched for the proper word. What—what were we? I had convinced myself that first night that we were more than acquaintances, but in our month together, we had grown surprisingly close. I had not had such a close companion since I had been a princess some one-hundred years before. In fact, the last person I had confided in as much had been my last suitor!

A small frown surfaced on my features. I missed Layden with all my heart, and I cared for him deeply, but such a relationship could never be. That is not to say I did not yearn for it. In fact, in my own secret fantasies, such a relationship was often the center! But no matter what I wished for, I knew in the depths of my heart that we would be nothing more than friends. Layden was a mortal, and I knew for certain that a mortal is all he wanted to be. He realized the power, he realized the potential, but he also realized the cost. He knew that to gain all that power, he would lose his own soul.

Passing through the shadowed courtyard in the late afternoon light, I began down the steps that led into the dungeon. The jailer was inside, and greeted me with a dark, knowing look only a Dark Elf can have. "Lady Serana. I assume you are here for your pet?"

I sent him a cautionary glare. "I do not much care for that particular moniker."

The man bowed subserviently. "Of course. My apologies. I will release the Nord at once."

With that, the man began weaving his way through the room, dodging the many guards and cages lining the walls. I followed behind, peering inside at the prisoned inhabitants. Most were simple mortals: travelers unlucky enough to cross our castle, servants who had gotten on Father's bad side, Vampire Slayers who had tracked us down, or even merely politicians who spoke out against our kind. The prisoners were as varied as the reasons for their being incarcerated, but only one prisoner concerned me now, and he was in the farthest, darkest, dirtiest cage the dungeon had to offer.

As soon as the door opened, I wasted no time in entering. Layden was a curled up heap of bloody cloth and torn flesh. He had been lashed repeated on his back and arms, from the looks of it. I gently placed a hand on his back, trying to coax him from his apparent slumber. He felt entirely too warm, even for a mortal. The lashes (and gods knew what else) had set him in a fever, one he was unlikely to recover from without plenty of aid.

With a soft groan, I felt him stir under my touch. He hesitantly turned around, doubtlessly reasoning that his torturing was not yet finished. The surprise in his deep blue eyes was enough to bring a smile to my face.

"You came back." It was more of a question than a statement, but no matter which, there was joy in his tone. He looked up me and down once, doubtlessly fearing the worst. Upon seeing I was unharmed, he grasped my shoulders. "Why are you here? I read the letter before they took it, and it said you were in danger! You shouldn't be here! Where is your mo—"

"Layden!" I interrupted his interrogation, wanting to get him out of his current plight and _alone_ before giving him an explanation. "Just follow me, and I will answer your questions as soon as we are in a more— _tasteful_ atmosphere. Deal?"

He nodded his agreement with a small grin. "Sounds good."

I helped him to his feet, but it was apparent that he could not walk unaided. Putting my arm around his waist and bearing most of his weight (which he repeatedly apologized for, despite my consolation), we continued back towards the courtyard.

We were halfway through before Layden uttered another word. These four words, however, made me stop in my tracks, a wide smile etched in my features:

"I missed you too."

I still had no idea what to call our relationship, but no matter what it was, I would not trade it for the world.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: And the reaction to that last chapter was *amazing*! You all are awesome! If we keep that up, it won't be long before we hit our 100 review goal! I'm personally not a fan of this chapter, but my beta assures me it is just my own paranoia. But without further ado, here is chapter 9! Enjoy, everyone! ;)_

* * *

Three weeks passed, and other than the guards that lined every known exit, life in Castle Volkihar changed very little for Mother and me. I could still go wherever I pleased, and the guards were so gracious as to even allow me the occasional visit to the shore (where I was constantly under supervision, of course).

My father never showed his face in the court again. If it was not for the occasional address by his primary advisor, Vingalmo, I would have believed he had simply vanished. I was still horribly confused (and, I will not deny it, frightened) by Father's admittance when we had returned, but I still clung to the hope that behind his closed doors, he was fighting with himself, with his power. I hoped that he was beginning to see what he had done to his family.

Everyone in the court was smart enough to not bring up our little escape attempt. I took their silence graciously, choosing to ignore the whole experience as much as everyone else seemed to. It was just another chapter in the story of my life, one I hoped was put far behind me, and I never had to return to it again.

Mother, however, was not as diplomatic.

Although she never said anything of the incident, her routine was never the same. She would disappear, often for hours at a time. If questioned, she would feign ignorance, claiming she had never left. No one was ever around when she disappeared, and so no one could follow to see where she went. It was quite the mystery, but I never dwelt too deeply on it.

For my mind was elsewhere.

After our mutual confession that we had missed each other, Layden and I's relationship grew somewhat… complicated. My mind told me that I should cut my ties with the man before I grew too attached. I should push him away before something happened to him and I got emotionally hurt. My mind told me that if I was so foolish as to let myself care for him, it would never work for _multiple_ reasons: I was Immortal, I slept during the day, I grew weak from the sun, I grew voraciously tempted at the sight of blood… I was a _Vampire_.

My heart, however, chose to close its eyes to the facts, and sing a different tune.

My heart told me that if I truly cared for him like I think I did, that none of our differences mattered. If he cared for me like I cared for him, they would sort themselves out—somehow. That if we were destined to be together, Mara would not let trifling details keep us apart.

But it seemed our circumstances were anything but 'trifling details'.

I sat in our own little sanctuary, the library, and watched Layden sitting in the very chair he had sat in when I had first met him. His nose was in a book, but I was not focusing on what he was reading. I was trying to sort through this inner turmoil, and find a golden solution in the midst of it. There _must_ be a way for all parties to find some happy ending.

But for the life of me, I could not think up a solution. Every solution I thought up, one of us were either miserable—

Or dead.

If we all stayed, my mother or I was dead. It was as simple as that. If Mother and I somehow managed to escape, I would never see Layden again, Father could not kill us, but we would be safe. If Father were to die, Mother and I would be safe, but, obviously, Father would be dead. There was no potential solution, apart from Father seeing his dastardly ways and turning from them, where all three of us were happy.

I was beginning to think that our family would never truly see happiness. It was not possible for us to be happy anymore. Our choices had set us on a road that placed power over everything else, a road that we could only turn from through tragedy.

"Everything will turn out alright, you know."

A voice brought me from my hopeless musings. I looked up to see Layden staring concernedly at me, his book closed and resting on his knee. "Everything will be alright," He repeated, as if the words were a soothing mantra.

I nodded my understanding, although deep down, I knew it would _never_ be 'alright'. We were heading for either a tragedy or a falling out, and there was no possible way to stop it, we could only postpone it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I immediately shook my head. This was my own problem. What with Layden's injuries in the mid-stages of healing, and the scarring memories still fresh in his mind, my family problems were the last thing he needed to be troubled with, anyway.

He grew a knowing frown. "It is not good to bottle up these emotions, Serana. When you finally let them all lose, you are going to either explode into a fit of anger, or break down crying." He sat there a moment, seemingly sorting his thoughts. His thoughtful expression grew into a smirk, and he continued: "You know: if you do go into a fit of rage, it is most likely going to be aimed at me, as I am around you the most. I am not exactly looking forward to the prospect, so how about you share your thoughts, and ease the tension a little?"

I sent him a withering glare at the joke before looking down at my hands, taking my own turn at sorting my thoughts. "Do you realize," I began slowly, "that this is not going to end well?"

Layden let out a slow sigh. "And how do you know that? How do you _know_ that this is going to end disastrously? Your Father could, right now, be realizing that what he has been planning this whole time is extremely foolish. You cannot give up hope, Serana. You have to have faith that everything is going to turn out fine. Faith is the foundation upon which our dreams are built into reality. If you give up hope, then it truly _will_ turn out horribly."

"And _how_, exactly, _could_ this end up with everyone happy? I have spent entire _days_ trying to conjure up a plan. It is impossible. My family is _far_ too deep in their own power grab to see the consequences of their actions, anymore.

"My entire family is heading off a waterfall. At the bottom, there are churning waters and jagged rocks. The odds are that _at least_ one of us is going to die when we finally hit the bottom, we just do not know who. I am just waiting around, just waiting for us to finally hit the bottom, Layden. We can postpone our fate, we can run and hide ourselves away, but you cannot stop gravity. No matter what we do, we eventually are going to hit the bottom, and one, if not all, of us is going to die."

A long silence followed, and I was beginning to grow afraid that I had upset him. Just as an apology was forming on my lips, he answered: "Then we just decide who dies."

* * *

There had been times in my life where I had simply wished I had never been born. I had simply wished that my parents had never met, that they had found someone who they truly loved, and that the thought of being a Vampire had never once occurred to them in the first place. I wished that, if the gods were so merciless as to let me be born, the very ground itself would swallow me whole.

This, for example, was one of those times.

I stood facing the wall of my bedchambers, my forehead against the cold stone, my gaze downward, and my hands curled around the very object of my distress. The events of the previous days, nay, _weeks_ ran throughout my mind in a constant loop, mocking me by showing what I could have done to prevent this very thing. How I was so stupid as to let it happen, I did not know. I should have seen it coming from leagues away. I should have stopped it before it had even become a possibility.

'_How did you let this happen to yourself, Serana?'_ I scolded. _'You should know better by now!_' The voice raged.

Worse things had happened to me, of course (the ritual easily topped this, for one), but in the heat of the moment, I truly felt as if that day was the worst day of my life. All of my training, all of my knowledge, everything I had learned up to this point of my life, and I was so stupid as to throw it out the window and just 'follow my heart'.

I looked down at my hands again, seeing the wretched object. I quickly slammed my eyelids shut, not wanting to view it anymore. Turning from the wall, I flopped on my bed (I had never taken to sleeping in coffins), burying my face in my pillow. It was official: I was foolish. I was, perhaps, the stupidest girl in all of Tamriel.

The thing I hated most about this situation was the fact that, while part of me hated this, part of me was soaring with joy. Sure, it was plainly and utterly foolish, and I was in deep trouble, but until everything came crashing down: surely I could be allowed _some_ unabashed joy.

Lifting my head from its cradle, I brought the hand that clenched the wretched object into view once more. I took it with both hands and twirled it around, both admiring it and cursing it at the same time. How something could inspire such dread and such joy at the same time was something of a wonder to me. I felt like if I jumped from the spire of the castle, part of me would fall happily to its death, arms outstretched in greeting, and part of me would sprout wings and fly.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down and think things through. I had no inkling of what to do. Everything just had kind of gradually come crashing down on top of me, and I had unknowingly cheered it on. And now, with this undeniable, black-and-white proof in front of me, I had no idea of where to turn.

I took the undeniable proof in my hands and brought it up to my nose, taking in its rich scent. It was quite the beautiful rose, all implications aside. The thorns had been cut off, its stem cut short. The petals were still a bright red, the flower being in the very prime of its life. It reminded me of a purer, more innocent version of the rose back in Dimhollow. And, undoubtedly, that is what Layden had thought, as well.

I set the rose down on the end table to the very right of the bed, and picked up what was part two of the undeniable proof. With both joy and despair, I read the letter once more:

_My Dear Serana,_

_There are times in our lives were we get to the point of such stress and grief, that we do not take a moment to admire the world around us. We drone on and on without once thinking of anything but the problems the gods deem necessary for us to endure. I fear you are falling into this routine. I do not know if you realize it, but you have become so stressed and despaired that you have ceased smiling, ceased laughing, and sometimes you even stop talking._

_I am writing you this note and giving you this flower to just let you know this one simple truth: you are missed. Yes, you came to the library yesterday morning. Yes, we had a wonderful chat and sat in comfortable silence afterwards, both engrossed in a book. But the __real__ you still is still gone, enraptured by your own troubles. I miss you._

_So please, come back. Let me see that beautiful smile and hear that delightful laugh. You are the one bright light in the sea of darkness that is my life, Serana. I cannot bear for you to dim, too._

_No matter what happens in the future, Serana, do not forget: you are loved. If by nobody else, by me._

_ Forever yours,_

_ Layden_

I groaned once more before letting my head once more fall into the caress of my pillow. It was too good to be true, and yet too horrible in the same light. _'…you are loved. If by nobody else, by me.'_ How could I let this happen? _'Love_'? Yes, perhaps the note I had sent him from Dimhollow had hinted towards the idea of compassion, but to say he loved me?

My mind and heart once more began its never ceasing battle, but this time the new information changed the arguments. My mind still held strong that there were too many obstacles. I was a Vampire, and had come too far to change that fact. He was a Mortal, and would never give that life up, even for 'love'. It would never work.

And my heart—my heart did not quite know _what_ to think. It certainly was not of the mind's opinion, but it could not exactly say its opinion was directly opposing it. Layden _loved_ me. My heart was still trying to comprehend that fact, and it was sorely overjoyed and terrified by it. What it was most trying to do, however, was decide this:

Did I love him back?

I had known Layden for twelve weeks, yet I had only been _with_ him for ten. Ten weeks, two and a half months, and he was already professing his love for me.

I shook the latter thought from my mind, remembering Skyrim's strange customs. Here in Skyrim, marriages were rather rushed affairs, compared to what I was used to. I could not count it as 'bad', however, as my own parents' long courtship did not give way to what was exactly 'the perfect couple'.

If I was in Skyrim, I might as well follow its customs. I certainly had feelings for him, despite how wrong I knew they were. And if, at least in Skyrim, having feelings for someone meant 'love', then so be it.

I, despite my better judgment, had fallen in love with Layden.

Now I just needed to figure out what I was going to do about it.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: We made it 10 chapters, guys! Not only that, but this puts us above the 15,000 word mark! I know that this isn't a divisional landmark for the archives, but it is a valid personal goal. ;) The feedback on that one was scattered, but still exceptional, so no complaints there! Keep the reviews coming! 82 more to go, but I have faith in you all! ;)_

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_Reply to Review:_

_Guest: Rest assured that the Dovahkiin will be making an entrance! He *will* be a major character in the story! He just, unlike most Dawnguard stories, isn't in the first few chapters. This story is going to be around 50 chapters, so we're only a fifth of the way through. ;) Hang in there, and our dragon-soul-stealing, shout-casting friend will be showing himself soon enough! :D_

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I still was not sure of what to do. My best, and only, friend had blatantly professed his love for me, Mother was continuing to disappear at random times, and Father was still locked away in his chambers. Everyone I confided in, I was unsure about.

All in all, I was starting to get lonely.

I remained tucked away in my room, resorting to my only escape: books. At first, I read what books were in my own, personal library, but quickly abandoned that when I found they were all filled with romance. I, in addition to my standing problems, did not need my mind filled with false realities of Love.

Two days passed in this reclusive manner. My only human interaction was with the various maids and servants that serviced the chambers. I was growing quickly tired of my seclusion, and was just about to emerge, when a knock was heard at my door.

Grateful for the deviation, I sprung up and raced for the door. Only stopping to adjust my hair and straighten my clothes, I opened the door with a smile on my face.

"I just thought I would come and check on you," Layden greeted, a nervous smile on his face. "You kind of disappeared for a couple of days."

Despite my realization the day before, I still was not sure whether to tell him or not. Mutual attraction was not enough to make a relationship work. Even if I did not pour my heart out, however, I was still grateful for the company.

"Of course, Layden. Come in!" I said; an uncontrolled smile instantly plastered on my face.

I stepped aside, allowing him entrance.

He stepped inside the room with a nervous smile on his face. He glanced around the room, taking in every detail, doubtlessly trying to find his rose and letter (the latter of which I had hidden away to keep from the prying eyes of the maids and servants). A sad smile of acceptance showed on his face as he gave up, turning, instead, to face me."How—how have you been?"

I motioned towards the table and chairs in the corner of my room, willing him to take a seat as I took one across from him. "I—I have been better, to be honest, but I certainly am doing alright. Has—has anything changed? The maids that service my room have not been much help as far as gossip is concerned."

Layden shook his head. "Not a thing. Your father is still hiding away in his chambers, your mother continues to disappear, and Vingalmo still convenes the court for random speeches informing us that Lord Harkon is doing well. In fact, everyone is more concerned about _you_ than with either of your parents, right now."

I blinked in surprise. I had simply assumed I was unwanted out in the court, what with all of the chaos that was circulating. Hearing I was missed was certainly not expected. "People are concerned? About me? Well I suppose stranger things have happened…" I said with a smirk.

Layden snorted at this, a loose smile dancing briefly across his features. "I—I have missed you, you know. It gets rather uneventful with all of our leaders stealing themselves away."

A foreign fluttering of my stomach brought me out of my senses for a moment, making an unrestrained smile flash on my face. For just a moment, I allowed myself the joy of imagining that I could tell him the truth. For just a moment, I imagined that we could profess our love to the court, move off to the city of Solitude that peaked out over the distant mountains, and live a quiet, normal life. For just a moment, I was unquestionably the happiest girl in all of Tamriel.

But just for a moment.

"You should try being one of the leaders," I answered, knowing delaying my response any further would give my heart away.

'_This is what your relationship has to be, Serana,'_ I reminded myself, stealing a brief glance at the cabinet of my nightstand, where the letter sat. _'Witty comments, friendly smiles, and a yearning heart. Love is not meant for you, it is meant for someone far more worthy.'_

"I think you are doing a good job. If I was Lord, the castle would be in ruins within the month."

I gave him a soft smile. "I think Vingalmo should be Lord, he is practically running the place as it is, anyhow" I answered truthfully.

We sat in a comfortable silence, each one of us staring at our hands or the table. I tried to seem as if I did not notice Layden's occasional glances up at me, yet I was sure I could not hide the blush from showing, if not on my cheeks, in my eyes. "What is bothering you?" was his eventual accusation.

I looked up at him, feigning ignorance. "Nothing is both—"

He shook his head, and I stopped, resigning my show. "I have known you for far too long, Serana. Something is troubling you, and that is why you have locked yourself up. I was hoping that you would tell me of your own free will, but now I am forcing your hand. Tell me what is wrong."

I let out a laugh, trying to convey the impression that it was painfully obvious. Looking up into Layden's eyes, I saw raw compassion. He truly cared about me, and it made me lying to him that much harder. I let out a deep breath, and began to weave the false reasons behind my incarceration. "What is _not_ wrong? My father has pretty much lined me up for the chopping block, my mother is probably plotting against him behind everyone's back, and I am—"

I paused, willing myself to go no further. I had almost given myself away, but I had stopped before irreversible damage was done. "I am torn" I finished, hoping he would not press any farther.

Lady Luck was not on my side that day, it seemed, as Layden was far from accepting. "I thought we could tell each other anything? I thought we were close enough to share our deepest thoughts and concerns, Serana? Why will you not tell me what is _truly_ bothering you? Your parents' situation has not changed for the past few weeks, and yet you suddenly lock yourself away. Something changed. I just want to help you through this, but I cannot if you do not tell me what is wrong."

His dark blue eyes (those same eyes I found myself lost in so often, those same eyes I would dream about, those same eyes I would tear myself away, mentally cursing my lack of restraint) searched my own concernedly. My deep, shaky breaths were the only thing to pierce the silence as my logic battled my heart. Once I came clean, there was no going back. If I laid my heart on the table for him to see, I could not deny it any longer. One heavy burden would be lifted, yet a whole new set of problems would replace it, determined to crush me under their unrelenting weight.

"_Please_ tell me, Serana."

"I—I want to, but if I do, I…"

Layden willed me to continue, "—you _what_?"

"If I do, you must let me explain."

He raised his right hand. "You have my word: no interruptions."

I fidgeted uncomfortably in my chair, not sure how to begin. My eyes rapidly shifted from Layden's compassionate gaze, to my own hands as I battled with myself once more. The sooner the admission is begun, the easier it is to finish. I knew this, yet I could not bring myself to even _begin_ it. It was not for fear of his rejection, it was the fear of the pain I would cause him when I told him that I could not pursue that love. I did not want to hurt him, yet I did not want him to believe his affections were not returned.

I began to wonder if maybe that was better. Maybe if he believed he had been rejected, he could sooner move on. He could find someone that _could_ love him back, and live a normal life. He would forever be servant here (as long as Father had his say, that is), yet he could find someone to suffer through that with. He could find someone _mortal_, someone to grow old with.

He could find _light_ in the midst of this darkness.

"It is hard to interrupt if you do not begin, you know."

His retort brought me out of my thoughts, and as I brought my eyes once more to his, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. The loving gaze he constantly, yet unknowingly, sent me revived something deep in my soul. I had thought that these feelings had died along with the rest of me; I had thought that the ritual had left me a soul-less, compassionless monster, yet it seemed that even _monsters_ could love.

It seemed I was not as dead as I had thought myself to be.

No matter how many times I told myself it was better for everyone if we stayed apart, once I saw him, all notions of subtlety were instantly forgotten. He had this power of making me disregard my logic, and instead follow my emotions. He was everything I had ever looked for in a suitor while back in Father's kingdom. He was everything I had hoped to find in a husband.

He was my 'Prince Charming', yet I could not have my 'happily ever after'.

If nothing else, he at least deserved to know.

He deserved to know that I desperately loved him, yet I could not be with him. He deserved to know that I wanted nothing more than to kiss him passionately, and run away from all my problems. He deserved to know that I dreamt of him every moment of day, and thought of him everyone moment of night. He deserved to know that I had shed tears of joy when first reading his letter, and yet shed tears of pain when I remembered I could not be with him.

He deserved to know that it was not him, it was me.

"It is in my nightstand," I began with.

He sent me a confused glance, so I continued: "The rose was taken away to be preserved with a magical spell, but the letter is in my nightstand. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I have read it, Layden. I—" I smiled, forcing the tears I felt rushing upon me back, "I hid myself away because I was afraid to face you. I knew how I felt, but I did not know how to express it in words. It took me two days, but I finally managed it."

Layden smiled, his expression half of fear yet half of hope. "And?"

"And I realized that I lo—"

I had gotten half of the way through my grand confession when the door slammed open. Layden and I jumped up from our chairs, and I stepped instinctively in front of him, wanting to shield him from any onslaught to come. A moment later, a furious Father came into view, his eyes glowing with a desire I recognized all too easily:

He was out for blood.

"I see you are still playing with your _little pet_," he snarled, gesturing to the man standing behind me.

I merely glared, crossing my arms in defiance. "You hide yourself away for _three weeks_, and that is the first thing you say to me?"

His glower darkened even further. "I have not come to _chat_, Serana."

Despite my cold demeanor, I was not at all sure of how this would end. I was determined to defend Layden at all costs, yet I knew Father's power had no limits. He could kill both of us if he just so much as wished it, and I was beginning to wonder if that just might be his intent.

"Your mother has gone. I know you know where she is. All I want is a location."

My eyes grew wide at this. She had—left? I had always assumed that if she tried leaving again, she would try to take me with her once more. It seemed that she was more concerned about her own safety than mine at this point. The worst part, however, was that Father would doubtlessly think me a liar when I told him I had no idea of where to look… and there would be a punishment.

"I—I do not know. She never told me of her plans. She always told me we would flee Skyrim and go to High Rock or—or—she named another country, but I cannot remember it. You must believe me, Father, I do not know."

He looked towards the door, then back at me, the maliciousness faltering in his eye for one brief moment, yet returning with a vengeance. "Let us see if we can jog your memory, shall we? Dmitri, take the mortal."

The warrior strolled into the room nonchalantly, nodding once to his master before grinning at me. "It seems your little deal paid off, did it not? Too bad you have to lose him again so soon." He took confident steps towards me, my anger building with each one.

I snapped.

My emotions were already on edge with all of the recent events, yet at the thought of losing my best friend (and soon-to-be more), I lost all control. Dmitri had long been a haughty man, and it had always grated on me. I had always hated him, and so coupled with his assigned task, he was the unfortunate soul that I would pour my wrath on.

Dmitri stepped into my reach, and my blood instincts took over. I reached for him with one hand, and grabbed him by his collar. Lifting him with strength I knew was not from my human side, I brought him mere inches from my face. "I'll see you in Oblivion," I growled through gritted teeth.

My free, left hand came up to grasp his throat, much to everyone's trepidation. Father regarded me with wretched intrigue, tilting his head up slightly in curiosity. Layden let out an almost inaudible gasp from behind me, doubtlessly scared to death. Dmitri was trying to tear either hand off of him, yet was hopelessly outmatched, and quickly running out of air. I, myself, was willing myself to stop with every inch of my mortality, yet I was no longer in control. I would not stop until his blood was on my hands, and I knew it.

Before I even realized what was happening, a spell I had vowed to never use again was being casted on the poor, defenseless man from point-blank range.

I was draining his very life from him.

The malevolent side of me relished the sight of his life flooding from his own body and into mine, grinning with pleasure as he quickly lost strength and resolve. With each passing second, his protests became less and less violent, the red aura of his life grew thinner and thinner, and my grin grew more and more cruel.

The conscious side of me sat, horrified, in the far corner of my mind, too aghast to speak. I had not lost control like this since—

The sliver of my mind focused on the memory shook it away, a chill flowing through my body at the prospect of revisiting that bloody day. Yet it seemed, even now, that I was not as in-control as I had fooled myself into imagining, evidenced by the now-lifeless body dangling uselessly in my grasp. I threw it away in both anger and terror, looking up to meet my father's gaze.

I knew all hope for his return was lost when all that I saw was approval.

"I had begun to fear that you were not even my daughter, but I see now how mistaken I was. I will let you keep your plaything for now, but be warned that I am watching you, Serana. If you give me even an _inkling_ of doubt concerning your allegiance, I will not hesitate to take him away."

He exited the room without another word, leaving only Layden, myself, and the life-less corpse of Dmitri. I looked down at the man's body, cringing when I felt nothing but satisfaction. No matter how stable I thought myself to be, I would never be as balanced as I once was. No matter how much I pushed the monster away, when I was backed into a corner, it would always break out of its cage, murder glaring ferociously in its eye.

I took a deep breath, leading the beast back into its cage in the corner of my consciousness, and turned around to ensure Layden's safety.

As our eyes met, he shook his head, both fear and distaste clearly visible at my act of violence. "Layden, I—" I tried, reaching out for him.

Stepping back in uncertainty, he took a deep breath before speaking: "I—I'm sorry."

As he left the room, I had never felt so alone. Dejected, I looked back at the nightstand. I crossed the room, opened the cabinet's door, and picked up the note. My eyes picked up on the words I had used in my very argument against telling him my true feelings: _'You are the one bright light in the sea of darkness that is my life'_. I shook my head, ashamed by how untruthful I had just proven that to be, and ripped the note in two.

Crossing the room once more, I dropped the note on Dmitri's still body, and stole out of the room.

Father and Layden both no longer loved me, of that I was sure. That only left Mother, who was out there in the wild, somewhere, doubtlessly feeling as alone as I was at that very moment. We may not have been able to have a love in our life, but we could still have had each other. And right then, that was all that I wanted.

'_I'm coming, Mother'_ I whispered, pulling the hood of my cloak over my head. I crossed the courtyard, briefly looked around for any sign of the guards, and slipped through a small door.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: This chapter puts us at over 20,000 words, and we have officially hit 2,000 views (much farther, actually, but I forgot to mention it last chapter). I want to thank *all* of you guys for encouraging me thus far, and I hope you continue to enjoy this story!_

_I want to give a special shout-out to those who are faithfully reviewing this story! Thanks to you guys (I would shout you out by name, but I don't want to put anyone on the spot. You know who you are :P), and I hope you all continue to enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it!_

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The sun was slowly rising in the Eastern sky as I found my way through the depths of the castle ruins. With every passing moment, my resolve faltered, yet I refused to turn back. Father and Layden no longer cared for me, and the last person that valued my presence was off somewhere in the wilds of this unforgiving land.

Two sparrows fluttered off to safety in a snow-shrouded bush as I made my way around the shores of the isle. They watched me with guarded interest, seeming to fly from bush to bush in order to keep a closer eye on me. I let them sate their curiosity, content that they truly seemed to be the only beings on this Island that knew my current whereabouts.

Turning to face the castle once more, my eyes gave the fortress one final, wistful glance. I had no intentions of returning to this place, as I had last time I left. This, my home for a century, would be all left behind. I had abandoned all familiarity once, and it changed me forever. Doing this again, I could only hope it would not be as frightening as the last time.

'_Frightening.'_ The word brought my mind to the events in my chamber. It brought my mind to the way Layden drew back in horror at my simple step toward him. It brought my mind to the look in his eye, where he had labeled me what I knew, deep down, I would truly always be: a monster. It brought my mind back to the fact that I had never finished saying _'I love you'_; I had never finished telling him the three words I had worked up courage to say for the previous _three_ _weeks_.

'_I never got to tell him that I loved him.'_ This realization brought a sense of emptiness I had only felt two other times in my life: the ritual and that dark day I had lost control. It was the feeling of a part of your soul being ripped out and crushed. It was the knowledge that you would never be the same again, because that part of you would never truly heal. It was the feeling a Vampire gets when just a little bit more of its Humanity is lost.

'_I have not been Human in a century, I am a monster.'_ The thought brought back that wave of determination that had faltered moments before, making me steel my jaw and turn my back on the looming castle. A few, brief steps brought me to the small jetty, and I clambered in without a second thought.

As I rowed the small boat toward the distant, hazy shore, I thought on what lied before me. I was doing what most young ones would do at my age: venturing out into the world with only my survival skills and instincts to guide me. I felt a rush of excitement build through me at the mere thought of this impending adventure. While my life was doubtlessly still in danger, this time I was running from a _known_ danger, and my adventurous spirit overwhelmed my logical fear.

While my adventurous spirit was in control, my logic was constantly peppering it with questions. My first logical question was 'where will I go?' While I knew my final destination would be wherever Mother was, I did not know where to even begin looking. At first I thought she may have indeed run off to High Rock, yet the more I thought about it, the less realistic it seemed. She said she needed to find a place where Father _'would never even think to look'_… Where would such a place be? Certainly not somewhere in plain sight!

As I thought through all of my stories, only a few contained such a plot, yet they all ended the same way: the last place the villain would always look would be where the hero had already been. Would Mother have gone back to Dimhollow? Yet if she did, what would be left there for her? Father had demolished the place and killed all of its inhabitants!

I quickly threw away the thought, trying to rely on my logic over the false fantasies of my books. As the boat surfed over the thrashing waves, I looked out at the mountains lining the distant shore. I knew Solitude lay just beyond, for I had often seen glimpses of it through my castle window. I had always seen it, yet I had never been there.

The idea of travelling to Solitude slowly worked its way through my mind as I thought up the arguments both for and against such an idea. Surely, I would not trip over Mother in the streets of the city, yet it could not hurt to just _try_. Solitude had mercenaries and mages that could surely help me track down Mother in _record_ time. As Mother herself had said: _'Magic can only help us at this point'_.

'_Yet,'_ my logic argued, _'if we are trying to use magic to help us, why not go to the heart of it all: Winterhold?'_ It was a valid argument, one that I knew would be futile to try and protest against. While the busy streets and merry folk of Solitude called to me, I would have to leave my visitation of that place up to Fate to decide.

* * *

The road from Solitude to Winterhold held everything from snowy mountains and freezing blizzards, to marshy bogs and foggy islands. I was cutting a path straight through Skyrim, much like I heard another man was doing: this Ysgramor fellow. I only hoped I would not have to fight off bands of the Mer Folk on my way to my destination.

Whether people were too trusting, or I seemed innocent enough, I never encountered any trouble on the roads. Fellow travelers or even patrolling guards would often walk near me and talk of the events in Skyrim and all of Tamriel. It is from this that I heard many a tale, reaching from the worshipping of Dragons to the magic sealed away in a White-Gold Tower that kept us from being hurled into Oblivion.

Despite my longing to simply crawl into a cave or curl up under the shade of a tree and sleep the hot afternoon hours away, I knew to do so would put my life in danger. Bandits prowled at night, yes, but Vampires did too. If I traveled at night, any potential lead I would have on Father would slowly dwindle. If I travelled during the longer day, however, I could cover more ground, and thus arrive faster.

My determination dwindled over the next twenty-four hours. I kept my head held high, however, and continued on my east-bound path, getting ever closer to help, yet ever farther from home.

Ever farther from Layden.

To say that I did not miss him would be far from the truth, yet to say that I _wished to see him_ would not quite be exact, either. I missed the times we had together: the laughs we shared, the stories we told, the comfort we gave, and the shy smiles we exchanged. I missed the way he would look at me with a passion I did not deserve, and a love I never got the chance to return. I missed the companionship I so foolishly rejected. Yet most of all, I missed the chance I had lost to tell him how I felt.

My mind repeatedly told me, however, that our seeing each other would only be rubbing salt in our wounds. We loved each other (although I had never said it, I was certain he knew the truth), though we could never be together. I had proven my one-sided argument well enough, evidenced by Dmitri's life-less, bruised body. I was not one to be trusted. Even if Layden _had_ still found it in himself to love me, I could not put him in danger by returning that love.

I had almost put Layden in peril, and it took Dmitri's merciless death to save him.

"Where are you headed to?"

The voice brought me from my dejected thoughts, making me lift my gaze and see a Wood Elf woman watching me with a curious glint in her bright green eyes. Her light brown hair came down to her shoulders, with the tips of her ears peeking through the locks.

I forced a welcoming smile, trying to brush the previous thoughts from my dark mind. "Winterhold," I answered truthfully, "that is, if this sun does not melt me alive first. Hjaalmarch is much hotter than my books made it out to be."

The young woman giggled at that, the mirth making her bright green eyes sparkle ever brighter. "Well it looks as if we are heading in the same direction." A pang of envy sprung through me as I watched her eyes twinkle, knowing that deep down inside me, withering away somewhere, were those same eyes. I had not seen their reflection for a century, yet I knew they were still alive, just barely hanging on, waiting to see the world once more.

I shook the thoughts away, focusing on this bright young woman once more. "The name is Serana, by the way," I mentioned, nodding my welcome to her.

The young woman made an attempt at a curtsey before resuming her stride once more. "Aeronel of Arenthia. It is nice to meet you, Serana."

_Arenthia_… I was certain I had heard that name before, yet I could not place it beyond the fact that it was in Valenwood. "And what is a young Wood Elf from Valenwood hoping to do in Winterhold, if I might ask?"

The young maiden smiled once more, making me wondering if there were no limits to her happiness, yet also wondering if I might ever return to such a happy, youthful existence again. I had been in her shoes once so many years before, yet I was unsure I would ever return to such a state. "You may. I am hoping to join the Mages' College. I know it is quite the trip from Valenwood, but it has always been a dream of mine to study Magic, and the College is the best place."

I nodded my understanding. The College of Winterhold had been the only _lasting_ place to study magic in all of Tamriel for the past two centuries. Smaller establishments came and gone with every passing generation, yet the College remained. I admired this woman for her determination.

"I am actually hoping to visit the College myself," I commented, giving the young woman a sideways glance.

She looked at me with a pleasantly surprised grin. "Really? Are you going to enroll too?"

I opened my mouth to deny, yet after a moment's hesitation, shut it again. I was not quite sure of _what_ I would be doing once I made it to the College, and enrolling might have very well been what I would be forced to do. The mages might not simply help me for nothing in return, and it may force me to learn how to find Mother on my own. "I—I am not quite sure."

The woman gave me a reassuring smile and patted me gently on the back. "Well I think you should. If nothing else, it will prove quite the adventure."

I nodded, looking down at the cobblestoned path. It would be yet another three days before I arrived at the gates of the College, and I was already unsure of what would await me. I thought I had quite the talent with magic, but I was unsure if the masters there would agree. I was even unsure if I would _need_ their agreement, as they might simply use their _own_ talents to find Mother.

My new friend was right: if nothing else, it will prove to be quite the adventure.

* * *

_A/N: So I know I don't usually put author's notes at the *end* of chapters, but I wanted to say a few things that couldn't quite wait until the next chapter. First of all, I have done some research regarding the study of magic in Tamriel, and it turns out that the College of Winterhold was truly the only place in Tamriel to study magic up until the founding of the Mages' Guild in the Second Era. I just wanted to let you know that this indeed *is* canon, as to avoid any confusion._

_Secondly, I wanted to let you know that I have made a Skyrim Discussion Forum! The link is on my profile! This is simply for all of us Skyrim writers to get together and discuss the actual 'video game' aspect of the Elder Scrolls, and if you all so desire, I wouldn't be opposed to a Role-Play category (I just hope you don't expect me to join in, as I have never actually been in one and would be hopelessly confused :P)! So hop on over, and I hope to see you there!_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: So, being as young as I am, my High School graduation is just around the corner, meaning papers and homework galore. Combine that with the novel I am writing with hopes of publishing (which has strict self-imposed dead-lines so it can be published by University… and yes, yes it is better than this... trust me, I rewrite that thing so many times it hurts). Because of these, my writing inspiration? Yup. Out the window. So I'm back with a vengeance until further notice, and I'm truly sorry for the wait._

_In other news (No, I didn't forget about you! You're the one I feel the worst about leaving without a word!) Moonflower04 wrote an amazing story which has (and rightfully so) been getting a *huge* amount of attention and fame! So if you're not already following her amazing work, go read it! This isn't near as good, anyways, and you'll enjoy it much, much more!_

_What are you still doing here? _Go, seriously!_ ;)_

* * *

There were many things I had hoped for in my life. I often hoped for adventure, as I always wanted to see the world and its many wonders. I often hoped for romance, so I could share everything with one person that I truly loved. I often hoped for family, to love and be loved in return. But above all, there was one thing I had always hoped for: a new chance.

I wanted a chance to live my life differently. I wanted a chance to look straight in the eye of Molag Bal and say 'no', just to see what would happen. I wanted a chance to run from the throne room that fateful day, and not let myself lose control. I wanted a chance to tell the man I loved that I would do anything to change. I wanted a chance to be _normal_.

The magic in this world was strong, yet it would take the mercy of a god for this to come true. I, having sold my soul as a Vampire, had never been much for religion, yet that night, curled around a fire with Aeronel sleeping peacefully across the blaze, I asked all eight divines for that chance. I begged them to wipe the slate clean, and let me start over. I asked them if I could have the last two months of my life back, and let me take Layden with me throughout all of this, in hopes he would have understood when the time came. I pleaded them for, if nothing else, my mother.

Yet they gave no reply.

At this point, I, honestly, could not blame them one bit. I had given them no reason to contemplate making my dreams come true. I had lived my life in all the wrong ways, being more concerned with myself than with others. I had given up my own soul to become a creature of the night. I had focused on what obstacles were in the way of my happiness, instead of focusing on the happiness itself.

I was carrying out the very same path my father was carving before me.

With heavy eyes, I looked up at the sky. The two moons danced with each other, a ballroom dance with the sounds of the wind and nature as their accompaniment. A lone bat darted across the sky, its mere presence reminding me again of just what I was. The stars glimmered with pale light, their beauty trying to comfort my dull thoughts, yet instead making my mind wander to previous days past. My gaze darted around as I searched for those two particular stars as my memory brought to life that fortune-changing day. I found white, yellow, and purple, yet I could not find blue.

It seemed even the eyes in the dark canopy had left me. They, along with Layden, could not bear to gaze upon this monster, and I once more could not find it in me to hold it against them.

* * *

"You look troubled."

The voice brought me back to harsh reality. Looking up from the dully burning embers, I met the emerald eyes of Aeronel as they watched me curiously. She tucked an auburn strand of hair behind her pointed ear before biting her bottom lip in hesitation. "I know we have barely met, but if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

With that, she turned toward her bedroll and packed it up, not even turning to wait for a reply. I admired this girl's attempt to provide comfort, but I knew it would not accomplish much. I had been to Oblivion and back in the past two months alone. Nothing would help me at this point, and certainly not this young Wood Elf.

"Thank you, but you should not trouble yourself with my problems. They are better left behind me, anyhow," I responded, gazing back down at the seething embers. Their faint glow casted a red hue on the underlying stone of our shallow rift, before reflecting toward the clouded heavens in a billow of ever-evolving smoke. I watched in passive interest as the charred remains of a log slowly caved on itself, showering the lifeless blaze in an eruption of pulsating sparks.

The fire was like myself, I noted with detachment. The fire had spread to all parts of its being, and when all was said and done, it could no longer support the very weight that had once allowed a life-form to thrive. I had let the fire of my father's misdirected passion char me so much, that I was collapsing on myself before my very eyes. The worst part of it all, however, was this: I really did not care.

I was so torn at this point, that I was merely allowing myself to dwindle into a pile of crushed emotions and abandoned dreams. My embers were slowly dulling, and my charred remains were slowly collapsing, and I was just lying back, watching wordlessly.

"My granddad used to always say this to me when I was feeling upset: _'the greatest part about the past is that it only influences your future if you allow it to'._ I never understood what he meant when I was little, but as I have grown older, I see its value now. Do not let whatever has happened trouble you any longer, Serana. It is a wonderful day with a shining sun in the sky and singing birds in the trees. Dwelling on your past will hurt nothing but yourself."

I nodded with an accepting smile I had forced on my face. The past was not nearly as big of a problem as the future was turning out to be. If Father had his way, the shining sun would not be around for too much longer…

* * *

"My father told me I am wasting my time by coming here, you know," Aeronel mentioned, breaking the silence we had grown accustomed to during the past few minutes. I glanced over at her to catch her giving me a small, downhearted smile. "He thinks the College will turn me away because I am not a seasoned mage. I admit I do not know as many spells as I probably should, but I can handle myself."

I shook my head adamantly. "You will be accepted with open arms, Aeronel. The College is there to _create _mages, not _house_ them. Once you show them you have the _potential_, they will give you the _ability_."

"You really think so?" Hope flooded her features as she looked sideways at me. A smile graced her lips with the news I had relayed, and I could not help but return it as we continued on our way.

"The Arcane Arts are a never-ending process of gaining knowledge, not simply a parlor trick that can be mastered with a few days' practice. If you apply yourself to it, you will do wonderfully."

Her smile grew even bigger at the reassurance. I watched her from the corner of my eye as we walked along. She reminded me so much of myself when I was younger. The care-free, happy aura she emitted was not too far a fetch from the personality I had in Father's kingdom. 'Princess Serana' was quite the catch, from what I recalled. I wondered (not for the first time), if this girl was what I would have turned out like, had I not accepted the gift.

"You remind me of my sister." The sudden proclamation pulled me from my reminiscing with a jump as I turned to face my companion once more. She giggled at my reaction to her sudden voice, and I could not help but watch as her eyes lit up with joy. Such petty things brought a smile to this girl's face, and as a result of her contagious grin, a smile to mine as well.

"And why is that?" I replied.

"You care about everyone, just like she does. You actually _listen_ to other people's problems, and try to encourage and reassure them as best you can. Most people could care less, stating that they have enough problems of their own. I will admit, in most cases, I am one of them. I find myself rolling my eyes when someone practically pours their heart out to me, rather than trying to comfort them. It is a special gift, one not many people have now-a-days."

I nodded silently as I mulled over her words. Did I truly care about everyone? Some people went without saying, of course: Layden, Mother, and even Father. But what about others? Dmitri was the first to come to mind. I had slain him in my very bedchamber in a fit of Vampiric rage. I could not describe the regret and pain I felt afterwards, but that did little to ease my conscious. In addition, I was not sure the regret and pain were even on his account. I did not know for certain, but I had a feeling that the pain and regret were for the fact I had lost control after all these years, rather than because I had killed him. I certainly did not care about Dmitri. So I supposed she was wrong: I truly did _not_ care about everyone.

But why should I? I was a _monster_.

* * *

'_Two more days until Winterhold.'_ The thought echoed in my mind as I once more gazed at the slumbering Bosmer over the crackling flames. Nestled between the lands of Hjaalmarch and The Pale, the ground was dry, yet cold, forcing Aeronel to cuddle closer toward the fire for warmth. The sky, in addition, was completely overcast as more snow waited for its appointed time to fall.

The days were shorter in this part of the land. We would have to rise even earlier than we did this day if we hoped to travel under the protection of the sun's rays. Bandits were brave, yet they were not foolish. They would be less likely to attack us without the shroud of the shadows. Yet even if they did, we would be able to defend ourselves if we could see them.

I chuckled to myself as I shook my head with a wry smile. Only I would dwell on these trivial details in order to distract my mind from what my heart was already dwelling on. The night sky, visible or not, was a constant reminder of my lost—my mind struggled for a title—my lost Layden.

He was ever present in my heart, even if not in my mind. Thoughts of him kept me grounded, yet drove me insane at the same time. It was a salve to my broken mind, yet a dagger to my crumbling heart. Layden would be my savior, yet he would also be my doom. But for some reason, I would rather have my heart broken than my mind lost, if it meant thinking on him.

I began to wonder if I was already crazy.


End file.
